Percy: Madness Remains
by Jolly Writer 2.0
Summary: Everything changed after that fall...at least for her. Talking cats, singing hats, evil wizards, spilling gizzards, bright hallucinations, and powers lost through generations. If her mind wasn't already in ruins, it'd be spinning with all the chaos that has become of her life. So much blood, so much death, so much insanity; if only there could be hope for her humanity. fem!Percy
1. Intro and Suggestions

Hi! Jolly here.

This is a crossover between three works. The two book series, "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" and "Harry Potter", and the video game series "American McGee's Alice/Alice: Madness Returns". It'll be more centered on Percy Jackson (the character) [fem!Percy in this story to make connections with AMA/AMR], Alice Liddell, and Voldemort, instead of the stories in each series themselves. In fact, the wars from PJO are going to have already happened, the war from HP will be more of a background to the true story, and the story of Alice that I'm focusing on is from a fanfiction piece I've got permission to reference from.

**Fanfiction mentioned above: **"Londerland", "Surreal", and "Still Curious and Willing to Learn I Hope" by 13HoursInWonderland

**Concept:** Alice Liddell, Tom "Voldemort" M. Riddle, and Percy Jackson are ALL related. Yup, that's it! Alice is Voldy's Great-Grandmother, while Voldy is Percy's Great-Grandfather! I even worked out the years, with the only change in time is when the HP books actually take place. Everything is moved around so that the 7 books happen within the time-span of 2008-2015. All the other math will be taken care of later to make things make sense.

**Plot-ish for Story:** So the story will be about Percy's "Wonderland", which she inherited from Alice, awakening after her experience in Tartarus. Now everything is going crazy, Percy's going mad, and now the wizards want to butt in. Dirty secrets are revealed, feelings are discovered, people die, and Percy doesn't give a fuck about blood relatives and fellow wizards if they're shit to her and her family/friends. Voldemort better watch himself.

**Reason for Putting This Up As The "First Chapter":** I personally think I can be a twisted person at times, and can come up with some pretty bad situations, but I need help really making this story messed up. I want you guys to share some of your most twisted, tragic, bittersweet, and just plain insane ideas. Be as bloody as possible, or as depressing as possible, or whatever. Just know you'll get credit for it when I finally post the actual story. But I need help to make this story as M-rated as possible without needing to have smut (there might be vague scenes though).

Please review your suggestions under this chapter before moving on with the story. I'd like to be able to quickly search them up instead of digging through reviews for them.

**_Warnings for the story:_**_** Examples and mentions of; rape, murder, miscarriage, character death, child abuse, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, self harm, hallucinating, incest, homosexuality, heterosexuality, bisexuality, genders aside from male/female, sexual activities, underage drinking, underage sex, excess amount of blood, insanity, profanity, pedophilia, attempted suicide, smoking, etc**._

* * *

Please Enjoy! :)


	2. Ch1 Runaway

**CHAPTER 1: Runaway**

* * *

The witch stared at the parchment journal in sorrow, taking in every drawing and every word scrawled onto its pages. _Mrs. Tom Riddle…Mrs. Fallon Riddle…Fallon Jackson-Riddle…Mrs. Tom Marvolo Riddle_. It was like reading a fantasy novel instead of her reality. For that was what those words and pictures would become; nothing more than a dream.

Before recent revelations, her life felt like a dream. Being a witch, magic was possible and she could perform it. Though her family was spread across the continent, traveling to gain research, they were loving and loyal. She had enough money to live comfortably, whether she decided to work or not. Last but certainly not least, she was in love with one of Britain's brightest, most attractive, and most powerful wizards, a Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Fallon's first impression of Tom was that he was the perfect gentleman and quite the stimulating conversationalist. Not only did he consider her opinions and allowed her to share her thoughts, but he could easily argue his own points or help her develop her own ideas. Not to mention he could make her smile with the sweetest of words and his dry odd sense of humor. If that did not make him perfect, his unwavering affection and the fair way he treated her left no doubts.

That was until she realized his true intentions.

Seeing as the Jackson family were known for traveling far and wide, being found camping through the forests of Albania was no surprise. Tom Riddle, however, was a curious find in the Albanian forests, making his way by Muggle means. If only for the simple fact, that Mr. Riddle had no love for their mundane neighbors. Every explanation he ever gave never truly sat well with her, but Fallon was willing to set that aside to get to know him personally. Obviously, he never shared much about personal goals.

He had been gathering information on the Dark Arts and practicing them behind her back. Tom was recruiting followers, purebloods and few half-bloods who believe in blood supremacy and the lack of worth in muggles and muggleborns – or mudbloods as some referred to them. He was researching ways to become immortal and achieving them through merciless murder.

And he dare act as if nothing was wrong, as if what he was doing was of no consequence.

Yet she could not bring herself to hate him, for she loved him with all her heart.

However, she did not love him enough to put her child at risk of being raised under the influence of a corrupt man.

She laid her hand on her still flat stomach as she stood with the journal in hand. Walking over to the fireplace, she stared at the flames for what could have been hours before tossing the journal in, watching as the pages slowly burned away. Not giving herself a moment to hesitate, Fallon grabbed her trunks from the bed and walked out, not looking back.

⁞™**Ω…№①…Ω™⁞**

It was in situations such as hers, that Fallon was so very grateful for her family's love and understanding of the Muggle World. After abandoning her once peaceful life with Tom, Fallon used an emergency portkey that left her outside the front gates of the Jackson Manor in Northumberland – Coventina Hall. It was best to make most of her moves in a location Tom would not find her in.

Then she had taken all of her share of the Jackson family wealth, half was made up of wizarding currency, and the other of muggle English pounds. With a quick floo trip to Diagon Alley's Gringotts Bank, she had made sure to convert most of her wizarding money into muggle currency. The rest – which she made sure were Galleons – she had melted into blocks of solid gold to bring to several muggle banks in hopes of getting more for her gold than what the Wizarding World thought it was worth. She was left with plenty to support herself until she acquired a stable job.

From Diagon Alley, she exited via the Leaky Cauldron and continued the rest of her journey without any magic of any sort. She did not have much to carry to begin with, since she had wanted to take only the necessities of her current belongings, and none that carried sentimental value. All of that was left behind at Coventina Hall.

Keeping her load light, she was quick to take her money (admittedly hidden magically for just this one trip) and make her way to the nearest airport – the new London Airport – by black cab. Not the worse experience.

The process of arranging for a flight to the States with practically outdated identification, and then playing off the fact that she barely understood most of their terminology…difficult in a way. But Fallon Jackson was not one to quit, especially when so close to her goal. And when she touched down on American soil, it was like a breath of fresh air. Unless Tom decided to start tracking her down through muggle services, he would be brought to a dead end at the Leaky Cauldron, the location of her last act of magic. He could only track her through her magical signature, which she was prepared to cut off at all costs.

He would not find her!

⁞™**Ω…№①…Ω™⁞**

"Congratulations, Miss Jackson! Two boys," the nurse smiled as she handed two tiny infants to the exhausted but glowing form of Faith Jackson (formerly Fallon Jackson), new mother. Faith grinned from ear to ear as she wiped sweat soaked brown hair away from her face. She carefully reached out for her sons, one at a time. Once in a comfortable position, the doctors and nurses decided to give her some privacy, leaving her to her awe and amazement.

Here were her two little boys. She had known she would have two little ones not long after she started showing. She just did not know what she would be having. Magic would have given her the answer, but that seized to be an option months ago. When she performed an ancient ritual, found in a dusty book from the Coventina Hall library, expelling most of her magical core and that of her then unborn sons.

She remembers how painful it had been, having the magic ripped from every part of her; from her skin, her bones, her veins. From what made her Fallon Jackson. However, even to this day, in the muggle body of simple single mother Faith Jackson, she could feel magic just under the service. Even with less magic than a squib, there was still some in her being. It seemed even muggles had some magic within them…

Faith shook her head of those thoughts. This was no time to reminisce about her old life. She did not work so hard to make a better life for herself and her babies away from the twisted hypocrisy of the Wizarding World, just to continue to bring it up. She was Faith Jackson. She lived in Queens, New York, in a lovely apartment with a muggle roommate and complete muggle accommodations. She was getting a proper muggle education and was hoping to enter muggle university at some point in her early years as a new mother. She had no time for magic and the issues that came along with it.

Looking back at the beautiful beings in her arms, she found herself smiling again. They both had her brown hair and the blue eyes that she and Tom shared. She could tell from their refined features that they would take after their father. Nonetheless, they were her children, and she would raise them, in her way.

"Richard and James Jackson," she brought them close to her chest and nuzzled their soft little heads, "Mummy's little angels."

* * *

"_If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself." – _Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson and the Olympians

* * *

**Not my best, I admit, but I didn't want to leave you all with just the first section and explain the rest in flashbacks later. Plus the next chapter already has a flashback, and there will be plenty more to show the difference in this Percy's story, since Percy's female here. So yeah, changing the gender really changes a lot, especially Circe's island and all the interaction between Percy and the Hunters of Artemis. I've got it worked out to the best of my abilities, but I'm not perfect. This just about average chapter is proof.**

**Anyway, next chapter is complete and should be up next Saturday (June 13) unless something happens. Chapter 3 is already started, and I should complete it within the week and get chapter 4 started after that. Updates will not be regularly paced, since my last try at that (Riders of Duracia. Check it out if you like HTTYD; you might like it, you might not) has resulted in no updates since August of last year. Pathetic, I know.**

**Do not come in here with expectations of a Blood and Gore Fest, since that's not what this story is going to be. It's going to get disturbing at times, and I will try my best at making it bloody since "American McGee's Alice/Alice: Madness Returns" are quite creepy and bloody (in a way) games. But I will be focusing more on story and character development. That does not mean I won't be taking any more suggestions. I love suggestions.**

**Aside from Notes at the bottom of some chapters, this should be the only really long Author's Note.**

* * *

**Originally Posted: June 6, 2015**

**Recently Revised:**

**Notes:**

**~ Historical Research – **I tried my best in researching English transportation, American female education liberties, and medical procedures for this chapter. I looked up the probable location for The Leaky Cauldron, and also the nearest available airport from it in the 40s; that happened to be London Heathrow Airport, known as London Airport from 1946 to around 1966. Since the twins are born in 1947, it worked pretty well. I also fell in love with the London taxi design, especially the ones that had a doorless passenger side until the 50s for luggage/trunks. Thankfully over 600,000 woman were in college by the 40s, so Fallon/Faith getting a complete muggle education isn't far-fetched. And lastly, ultrasound wasn't around until either the 50s or 60s, forgot which once I realized it was a no-go for me. But it just gave me a way to refer to Fallon/Faith's ritual, since magic should have been able to tell how many babies she would have and their sex.


	3. Ch2 Sedate

**CHAPTER 2: Sedate**

* * *

**WARNING! **Examples of: underage sex, slightly hesitant and unwilling partner, inappropriate age-difference relationship, and lack of knowledge of some of the books I'm writing about **WARNING!**

* * *

"Is it over?"

Percy looked around at the layers of fallen warriors and yellow dust that spread across the battlefield. She could see her best friend, Annabeth Chase, and Athena a couple dozen yards away, wiping the monster goo off their respective weapons. Her kinda-sorta cousin, Jason Grace, was touching down next to his sister, Thalia, trying to get his balance after flying around for possibly hours. Other members of the seven, Camp Half-Blood, and Camp Jupiter were either dead or catching their breaths. It seemed she, Percy Jackson, was the one to strike down the last monster. Turning to the rookie now turned experience camper behind her, she took a few deep breaths of her own, weakly nodding her head.

"Yeah….I think it's over."

That was when it all dawned on her. She could see many of her friends, standing and collecting themselves. But there were some missing. It was hard to tell how many survivors there were from each camp. She had been asleep for months because of Hera, then away training with Lupa and then running away being chased by gorgons before finally arriving at Camp Jupiter, only to be sent on a quest and then prepare for a new war. A hundred new campers could have joined Camp Half-Blood, and she would not have noticed, let alone have been able to point them out from within a crowd. Forget about knowing all the Romans in the Legion.

But even without that knowledge, there was obviously a severe lack of soldiers on the field. Their numbers had to have reached over 600 demigods and legacies. Now it looked to be just under 450, which although not half or more than half of the starting amount of fighters, it was still a depressing thought that they could have lost so many. Percy took a moment to mourn those lost, knowing that it would hurt less when she did not know the specifics of who died. Gathering her wits, Percy gestured to the others around her, wanting them to follow her. She headed towards where most of the gods were gathered. She dreaded the moment those who died were revealed.

⁞™**Ω…№②…Ω™⁞**

Percy wiped at her eyes as the next shroud was burned. This one belonged to a son of Apollo named Austin. The poor boy had been completely vaporized when they were searching for survivors. All that was left of him was blood and ashes. There was not even one personal object left behind to remember him by. At least his necklace would have offered some relief.

Percy pulled her hand away from her eyes to realize that it was dry. Maybe she had cried so much she had run out of tears? Can your eyes run out of tears? Where do they come from anyway? Percy shook her head, trying to get herself to focus. People had died, this was not the time to fool around, intentional or not. That was when she realized that she was not out of tears; she just did not have the energy to cry. She felt as if she had been crying for hours straight. She had lost so many friends and her emotions were so out of whack, she could not even feel the pain anymore. She was just numb.

Not wanting to stick around and become more of an emotionless wreck, Percy decided to leave the shroud burning. It was nearing 11pm anyway and she was physically, mentally, and emotionally tired. The killer migraine that was suddenly coming on strong was not helping.

"Wise Girl. I'm gonna go. I don't think I can handle much more of this." Percy whispered, leaning towards Annabeth, her eyes glancing around. She caught sight of Travis Stoll, leaning into Katie Gardner's arms as they both cried their eyes out. Percy looked away, not being able to take it. Connor and Miranda were just her friends and the news of their deaths was painful enough to her. She could not imagine being their sibling.

Annabeth turned to her with sad grey eyes. Brushing not only a tear, but also a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, the daughter of Athena nodded. Before Percy could walk away to the camp green and her cabin, the blond grabbed her forearm.

"Don't beat yourself over this, Seaweed Brain. This was a war, there were bound to be casualties. Without your help, we could have lost more." Her tone was stern and her eyes determined. Percy could not look her in the eyes as she nodded, her long black hair shielding her face. Annabeth sighed, knowing that any more reassurances would not do much to reassure her best friend who was like a sister to her. She will check up on her later before going off to bed, then again in the morning before breakfast. Percy did not seem one for self-harm, but one should not question the possibilities after what they went through. Letting her go, Annabeth watched Percy slowly stroll off, seemingly off in a different reality that was not this one, her blue-tipped black hair flowing behind her in the breeze. The daughter of Athena would not blame the girl if she was not all there, trying to mentally escape this reality filled with dread. She just hoped the daughter of Poseidon would not make it a habit.

⁞™**Ω…№②…Ω™⁞**

Percy tossed and turned in her sleep, whimpering quietly as she unconsciously scratched at her head and pulled at her hair.

To those of the physical world, the Greek hero was experiencing but a very stressful nightmare that was troubling her. Nothing new to the camp of demigods who have suffered from night terrors and panic attacks.

Only those with powers over the mind could tell otherwise, for Percy's mind was barely intact enough to form a solid nightmare.

What was once an ordered chaos of white open space and floating thoughts and flickering memories, bright with life, was quickly falling apart. The thoughts that were once harmless streams floating in the white were now speeding through the space like rogue bullets, ripping through everything like it was all but cheap fabric. Along with being ripped apart by frantic thoughts, the memories faded away as they were practically stretched beyond their limits, as if they were cloth being pulled apart by two powerful forces. If one could, they would hear a sound like tearing flesh as rips in the white appeared and worsened, the tears stretching across the space. As the white torn away, a black nothingness peeked through, sucking in all the racing thoughts and fading memories.

Percy thrashed in her bed, twitching and spazzing across the sheets. Her eyes fluttered as her head twisted left and right in unnatural ways, just short of breaking her own neck. One arm thrust out without warning towards the direction of the wall. Not conscious and losing control of her body's movement, the arm did not stop in its course and hit the wall with full force. The sound of cracking bone was deafening in the Sea God's cabin. No shriek, whine, or even wince followed the action, with Percy only continuing in her spasms with an arm now swinging around at awkward angles. A leg soon followed and the sound of bone breaking sounded a second time.

In the depths of her mind, the consuming darkness had rid of most of the thoughts and memories, leaving the mindscape as void and damaged as ancient ruins. When the darkness had consumed seemingly everything, a light shone through the void, bright and blinding. It was a memory, one that was stubborn and refused to be destroyed. It was Percy trying to hold on to the last remains of her mind, her precious memory. As the darkness surrounded the memory like smoke, it played vibrant and loud…

_A knock resounded through the quiet apartment, shocking Percy out of focus, allowing her character to be killed in the video game before her. Looking back at the screen, she whimpered, "Delta, no!" she watched as the color came back to the screen and she was left a few steps away from where she died. Percy sighed and paused the game, picking up her blanket and wrapping it around her. She wondered who would even want to knock at her door; not realizing that to knock on her door, the visitor would have had to be buzzed in or broke into the building. In her tired and lazy state, it never crossed her mind._

_Yawning, Percy looked through the peephole, not giving much thought to who would be there. Only to jump back as she recognized her visitor. She backed away from the door slowly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth and quiet any sounds she might make in her surprise. A few feet from the door, she reached down for Riptide only to realize, her pajama shorts did not have shorts. _Damn women's clothes!

"_I know you're there, Percy…," the person behind the door called out, just loud enough to be heard through the door, yet it still sounded like a whisper, "I'm not gonna hurt you…I swear it…I honestly don't think I can…"_

_Percy choked on a gasp. She had not seen him since the Battle of the Labyrinth. Then, she did not really have the time to process or even feel emotions regarding him. Even in the Labyrinth, she was more focused on surviving the next obstacle and saving camp. Well, that was most of her interactions with him since after her first summer at camp. But now that all that stood between them was her front door, and there were no monsters around – that she could see through the peephole, at least – it left just him and her. And her thoughts. If she did not run a blade through him soon, her feelings were going to get in the way. Seeing as the last time that happened, a fatally poisonous scorpion stung her; it would be wise to avoid that._

"_Please, Perce…I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not going to harm you in anyway…not as long as I'm in control…" the voice continued on, the voice firm yet soft. He was determined to reassure her, which was obvious. It was slightly working. She had not heard him speak to her like that since last year, in March… It was about three months after he had fought against her, Annabeth, and the Hunters of Artemis on top of Mount Tamalpais. Or should she refer to it as Mount Othrys? The Titans, or their allies, do reside there now._

Stop it, Percy! Focus!

_This is her enemy! And he made sure of that when he happily sat back and watched her fight for your life in the Labyrinth. All his promises and he goes and betrays her in the worse way. But those promises, they were said with so much passion, in the gentlest of tones. Her heart swoons at the memory of his touch, of his sweet words, and of his _indifference when your life was seriously in danger!_ Percy shook her head and quietly made her way into her room, searching for Riptide, maybe a javelin or two. Anything to fight him off._

_It took a short while to find Riptide (_Why'd I put it in _that_ bag?_) but hopefully not long enough for him to notice her absence. So imagine her surprise when she turned around to exit her room only to find Luke Castellan himself in the doorway to her bedroom. He looked sheepish as he held up a lock pick._

"_Son of Hermes, couldn't help myself." He walked over and sat on her bed, half making himself at home, half-hesitant. Percy could only glare at him, pulling her blanket tighter around her. He had seen enough of her last time; her current pajamas would surely show more than he would ever deserve to see._

"_I'm shocked you're acknowledging it…What are you doing here, Luke?"_

"_That's a big word, Percy. 'Acknowledging'! When'd you learn that one?" he shot her a smirk, yet his eyes were softened in comparison. Percy did not let that stop her from uncapping Riptide and holding it up to his throat. He barely flinched, which made her wonder why he would be so confident. Was he confident he could defeat her in battle, or that she would not actually kill him? She was not sure she wanted to know which._

"_Annabeth's got me reading dictionaries," Percy retorted sarcastically, giving him a mock grin, before the expression fell and she was stuck with something between furious and heartbroken, "Why are you here, Luke?"_

_Ignoring the sword at his throat in a way that sent a sharp chill down her spine, Luke licked his bottom lip as he looked down at his hands, "'Cause I can't do this anymore, Percy…I used to be so sure that what I wanted was right. That my way was the only way for us," he looked back up at her, with hard blue eyes, "I started doubting myself back when I tricked Annabeth into holding up the sky…the look on her face is something I'll never forget. She was like a little sister to me, and I caused that look to appear on my little sister's face. But I was too proud then, too stubborn._

"_When I had to sit back and watch as you fought Antaeus, my heart nearly stopped…Not that you'd notice; I have an excellent poker face," He smirked but then frowned and bowed his head as Percy just glared down at him, "Um, yes…I wanted to stop back then. Despite knowing what was going to happen to me, I wanted to stop. I didn't, obviously, but only because there was no turning back. Even before Ethan joined us, I was connected to Kronos in ways that still give me nightmares…so I just, _let it happen_," he rolled his eyes with a sullen smile. His eyes flashed gold for a second, one in which Percy's heart skipped a beat as she pressed the blade closer against his throat, the tip just barely digging in. Luke clenched his fists and trembled, shaking his head, before his eyes changed back to their original blue. None of them paid mind to the slight trickle of red that slid down his neck. Not a second later, those blue eyes filled with rage._

"_Gods dammit! I want this to stop, Percy! I don't want to do this anymore, to be his slave. All I wanted was for the Gods to finally have consequences to their actions, for demigods to be recognized as more than just chess pieces to move around on this board they so laughingly call life. And what do I get…I get roped into being Kronos' queen, or rook at least, in his own twisted game of chess. The kicker? It was no more an important role than a pawn. I was nothing. And for what? Seeing fellow demigods drop like flies as the Gods try to remedy the situation in their own fucked way, not that they didn't complain and demand the whole way….the Gods can have it their way, I won't stop them anymore. I just want to be free now. To not have to find out when I wake up out of Kronos' control, that a demigod fell to my blade, that an innocent monster was mercilessly slayed by my hand. I don't want to be a pawn, rook, or queen, or even king. I just want it all to stop," his voice hitched, his eyes watered. Percy was fighting against dropping her sword and hugging him to death._

_In that moment, he was the happy and passionate nineteen-year-old camp counselor that Percy met all those years ago. He was the charming older boy that had the honor to be her first kiss. He was the unwilling warrior that hesitated in springing a scorpion on her long enough that he almost lost his chance. He was Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes. None of that 'Kronos' crap mattered in that moment._

"_You really gotten stop with the chess references," Percy bit her lip, loosening her grip on Riptide, "I ain't no Annabeth." She gave him a weak smile._

_Luke looked up at her again, and in motions so slow, it was like he was trying to avoid startling a frightened animal, he reached up and pushed the sword aside. Percy let it drop from her hands, the clang of it hitting the ground the only sound in the room as Luke took her face gently in his hands and stood. She barely registered how close his face was becoming until his lips touched hers and her eyes slid shut._

_The kiss was chaste and sweet, just like their first. Percy remembers how flustered she had been. She was only twelve, and there was this boy seven years her senior, that liked her. All those beautiful girls in camp, and he chose the short twelve-year-old girl with crooked teeth and black hair cut to the nape of her neck, easily mistaken as a boy at times. Now was no different, even if she considered herself more attractive now. She had gotten braces not long after returning from the sea of monsters, and grown out her hair after being mistaken as a boy – and subsequently discriminated against – by the Hunters of Artemis, with Artemis herself not up to correcting them._

_They pulled apart after a few seconds, though it felt longer to her. Percy left her eyes closed, not wanting to look into his eyes and accept that she let him touch her so intimately again. If she kept her eyes closed, maybe she could deal with the actions she wanted to partake in with him. She could pretend he was not there, that the feelings and pleasure she would feel were self-stimulated._

_Her mind was telling her he was the enemy. To knee his crotch, strike him across the head with her elbow, and kick out his knee as she reached down for her downed sword; it was not sure what she should do after she had it though…_

_Her heart was telling her he broke her heart. To slap him across the face, scream and rant about how he could not just show up after teasing her, leaving her, and then betraying her, just to apologize and start all over again. Then do it again and again (and again)._

_Her body was telling her he was an attractive man who not only liked her, but who she liked _very much_. To jump him like he was her life force and skin-to-skin contact with him would result in effects equivalent to that of the Fountain of Youth._

_It was like a three-way war taking place inside her body, pulling her this way and that. And as Luke caressed her sides and kissed along her neck, she could only moan in her world of darkness. She could not see him, but she could most certainly feel him. Feel him pull her close and into his arms. Feel him grind against her bottom half. Feel him harden and press on her stomach._

_War or not, her body was sneaking around the duel between her mind and heart, and she found herself responding to his touches. She wrapped her arms around him, undid his jeans, and held him in her grasp. Soon they were falling onto her bed, practically ripping each others' clothes off, and rubbing against each other like rabbits in heat._

_Half way through the act, her heart took over. The fiction of his thrusts and the pressure of his body weight could not stop her from feeling worthless. Was this all he was here for? Would he leave after he had his way? How was he planning to work out the problem that he was the figurehead of an army that wanted her head on a spike? And yes, figurehead. He lost the rights to leadership when he loaned his body to Kronos. Oh gods! She was gonna throw up!_

_Kronos is in Luke's body!_

_Her train of thought swerved so off its course with his new angle that it might as well forget about reaching its destination in the next millennia. Luke pounded down against her body, using his new position to distract her as he gently wiped away her tears. Tears she never realized she shed. But she was glad she did. As willingly as her body might have been, she wanted him to know that she did not accept him with all her being. That she still saw him as the worse of scum on earth. That she could hold a place in her heart for him, but that place was shattered beyond belief, held together by shear faith._

_And it was with that thought that she wrapped her legs around his waist, grasped his hair in a tight grip, and held his head up to look into her now opened eyes. The sea green pools were raging with love and hate, hope and defeat. Neither halted in their movements as they stared each other down, Luke in challenge and Percy in determination. As her orgasm approached, Percy pulled back roughly on his hair, almost snapping his head back and gritted her teeth._

"_I fucking hate you, Luke Castellan!" she hissed through her teeth before groaning as her body arched, her fingers and toes clenching, facial expression something between pure bliss and utter torture. Luke only watches on as the girl he loves loses all control, the image of her beautiful green eyes burning with hate imprinted in his mind. Feeling her tighten around him, the sight before him, and the anger in her expression just moments before, it was just enough to send him over the edge._

_Percy felt more tears roll down the side of her face as she laid on her side, Luke pressed along the length of her back, half an hour after they had both regained their breaths and control over their senses. They had laid there; bare as the days they were born, coated in a layer of sweat. Tear tracks stained Percy's cheeks, both from the emotions that warred within her and from the pain she had started to feel soon after the pleasure had subsided. None of them knew what to say, if they should say anything. Nonetheless, they both knew that they needed to, that something needed to be said and their situation had to be brought to light. They could not very well pretend what happened, never did. Percy decided she would break the silence…_

"_We can't do this…," she whispered, her voice piercing through the faux calm. She reached down to grip the hand resting on her abdomen, "I might be a child of the Big Three, of the prophecy, but I don't have the power to help you, Luke."_

_The hand squeezed back and an audible sigh accompanied the puff of hot air against the back of her neck. The silence pressed on a little longer._

"_A guy can try, right?" a humorless laugh huffed on her skin and Percy closed her eyes, "I can want this, this right here," he tightened his grip around her waist, "But I've made my mistakes and can't turn back. I think I already knew that even before I decided to come here…didn't stop me from trying._

"_I just knew that I needed to be with you, Percy. If only to have you shout in my face and slap me to your heart's content. I just needed a familiar face for the little break I'm getting from Kronos. I wanted a moment to be myself with someone who wouldn't be afraid to tell me straight how stupid I am, how stupid I was," a kiss was pressed against her skin and Percy sighed. She caressed the hand in hers in gentle encouragement, "You're not the only one I came to for help. You're just my last stop because your reaction was the one I kind of dreaded the most. I care about a lot of people who are going to fight against me in the war…Annabeth, Thalia, Grover…you. Annabeth was conflicted but pushed me away; I don't blame her. Thalia is a lost cause; she probably hates my guts to the point that she wouldn't hesitate to rip them out. Grover would just ignore me to find help, if I could even find him. You, though…you're unpredictable, Percy."_

"_My dad says it's the nature of the sea. It could be calm one second, raging the next…" she pulled the hand in hers up to her lips, pressing a sweet kiss to the fingers before intertwining them with her own. A smile could be felt against her neck._

"_Just like the sea indeed…I should go…"_

"_Yeah, my mom should be here soon…"_

_The silence became awkward as it continued on. Eventually Percy sat up, ignoring Luke's gaze as she picked up her clothes and pulled them on. Soon she picked up the forgotten blanket and pulled that around her as well. Now that the moment was over, it felt weird to be seen in the nude by him. She stood there, twirling Riptide in her hands, which she had picked up with her blanket, not looking his way. She could hear him getting dressed behind her, painfully slow. He wanted to prolong the inevitable. Deep down, she wanted to as well._

_Then he was standing before her, hands shoved in his pockets, chewing at his bottom lip. His sandy blonde hair was in disarray and his clothes, though carefully pulled on, were somehow rumpled. A light flush colored his healthy cheeks. That was one positive from Kronos' possession. He looked so sickly before he started preparing to become Kronos' host. It was somewhat nice to see the healthy glow in him again. Even his scar did not look so bad._

"_Well this is goodbye, until we see each other again…on the battlefield…" he rolled his eyes good-naturedly and Percy couldn't help but smirk, "Can't promise I won't maim you. You know, Kronos' host and all…"_

"_Can't promise I won't stay my blade." She joined in his solemn farewell._

"_You've been playing too much Ass Creed, Persephone Jackson." He smirked as he made his way out her bedroom door._

"_Surprised you even know about that game, Luke Castellan." She playfully shoved him as she followed him to her front door._

"_You'd be surprised…" Luke softly smiled as he pulled the door open and looked her straight in the eye, "Goodbye Percy." She did not get to respond as he left, closing the door behind him._

_The memory began to darken along the edges as the Percy in the memory leaned against the door, showing a watery smile. _The black started toconsumethe memory the way it had consumed everything. And while her mind slowly became a void of nothing, Percy's body suffered.

Through the reliving of her last remaining memory, her body experienced the emotions she had gone through in that moment. It tensed when she had tensed, relaxed when she had relaxed, and felt pleasure when she had felt pleasure. All while her eyes remained shut tight and her broken limbs swung around without control. Now, as the last piece that made up her mind was slowly wasting away, her body jerked and twitched violently as if she were having a seizure. Her eyelids fluttering, her eyes rolled back into her head, heartbeat an impossibly pounding rhythm.

Her body temperature rose to levels that could end in nothing but death. As the blackness obscured the smiling face of the Percy in the memory, warm blood oozed out of Percy's ears, trickled from her nose, and flowed from her mouth and eyes. As her mind seized to exist, her body arched over the bed unnaturally and contorted into uncomfortable positions. With a final gasp and blood spurting cough, Percy's body slammed down onto her bed, bouncing lifelessly on the mattress for a few unnerving seconds.

The barely audible beat of her heart stopped…

⁞™**Ω…№②…Ω™⁞**

A large widespread grin of blood-stained human-like teeth emerged from the dark of the void that was the remains of Persephone Jackson's mind. In a whimsical and eerie gold shimmer, the rest of the smile's form materialized. An emaciated and long limbed cat. Tattoos riddled the visible ribcage and thin legs, all the way up and around the head of grey, in an intricate tribal marking imitation. A long and boney tail swished to and fro along a nonexistent ground, while torn and pierced ears twitched in uncertainty. The nervous and irritable body language contrasted against the wide grin.

With one more twitch of its ears, the cat's glowing yellow eyes slowly opened. In a few tense motions, the cat assessed its surroundings, as the darkness seemed to rumble under his sharply clawed paws. As it observed its sad new home, color began to bleed into the black; a somber rainbow plastered all around. The hues swirled and danced in the virtually lifeless mindscape, and random objects – spinning shields, glinting coins, winged shoes, bowls of blazing green flames – surfaced out of the colors, floating along without a care.

The cat raised a brow in contemplation, its grin never wavering.

"A new beginning, it seems, to an indeterminate end," it purred in a harsh, derisive tone, voice a resonating timbre that was pleasant to the ears, "From the looks of things, not quite that of one I'm willing to participate in. Alice is gone but a new soul emerges…Girl, what have you done?"

⁞™**Ω…№②…Ω™⁞**

Once sea green eyes snapped open to reveal only black, webbed with veins out of the faded reddish edges of the eyes. The white of the original eyes peeked from behind the dark film. Though dead, the demon-like eyes stared intensely into the dark as the skin around it – which had started to cool and pale with death – turned a sickly white as dark veins branched out from the eyes and mouth. The color around her seemed to seep out of the very fabric and wood of the furniture, leaving everything in a two-meter radius a gloomy grayscale. It was a disturbing sight.

Just as quickly as they appeared, the veins faded back into the skin and the black fog cleared to reveal glazed sea green eyes. Color slowly returned to the world around the body and to cold cheeks, and the beat of a restarting heart was somehow deafening in the silence. The body gave a sharp gasp before releasing an agonizing scream.

"_AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_"

* * *

"_Every adventure requires a first step. Trite, but true, even here_." – Cheshire Cat, American McGee's Alice

* * *

**Half Credit to CupCakeAwesomeness for providing a suggestion similar to what I already had planned: **"Put mentions of rape and abuse. She could also be heartbroken by Luke, or someone else."

**Originally Posted: June 13, 2015**

**Recently Revised:**

**Notes:**

**~ I'm Lazy – **I never got around to reading _House of Hades_ or _Blood of Olympus_. I know, I know, "WTF JOLLY!" yeah, well, screw it. I haven't sat down and read a book since 2013. I'm even irritated with myself. So I'm using limited information about the books' plots to write this. If the ending of the Giant War isn't accurate, well at least I was vague. I'm also killing off more characters because Rick didn't kill enough main characters to satisfy me. Characters that I've killed off will be mentioned in the next chapter or so.


End file.
